


On The Brink Of Something Close

by captaintwerkpants



Category: superbat - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaintwerkpants/pseuds/captaintwerkpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's raining, and he's mad for some reason. So am I. I want to kiss him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Brink Of Something Close

**Author's Note:**

> Just a casual make-out scene between the two hotshots from Clark's pov. Title made possible by - 'The Riot's Gone' by Santigold

There’s a little light in Bruce’s eyes. I can see it sparkle, see it shine and dominate the darkness that we’re surrounded in. Shrouded by the very shadows he keeps himself within, and that god-awful mask that he hides beneath. My fingers are tapered against the wetness of it, the downpour of uncalled rain is a threat that we need to seek shelter. But. Also a welcoming into arms that are covered in leather, and battle-worn scars. I can see them. I want to touch them. Defy the nature of this man’s shields and break them. Of course, not without his permission.

He’s staring at me, and I’m staring back. We don’t know who’s to make the first move, so I step forward again. Another inch closer. I could feel his breath before, but now? Now I can feel it. It’s hot. It’s clouds between our lips. It’s the promise of a taste I’ve yet to discover. He tilts his head and the world falls with it. The rain is nothing but the shattering glass of his shield and a smile pulls against my mouth without agreement, but pride and rueful standing. Thunder shakes the building.

The snap of our capes intertwine the wind’s course. They are a harmony unwritten, but known. There’s nothing hidden as our necks crane and our faces pull closer like that of gravity. Forbidden science. And then suddenly; I’m tasting. Bitter. Unsweetened. Rough and it hurts to hold it so still.. And wet. Very wet. Water slips between our lips and mixed tongues and for a moment I cannot tell which is mine. He’s making me forget who I am, what I am, what I’m supposed to be doing. Pretty sure I’m keeping him from something important, too, then— 

My body rolls without knowing how to, right into those gauntlet-covered arms, slides so easily against the armor and lightning strikes for a moment. The spikes drive a sensation unlike pain into my spine and I take a breath. I steal it from his mouth and as I pull away, he follows to retrieve it. His hair is a wet mess— ah. His mask is free, but my hands map his face with eyes closed and mind open to the jaunt of a chin, cheekbones, the slick tangle of hair. Our mouths open as one, close on each other and he’s giving me the breath of life. I take it. Treasure it. Restore it against his tongue and worry it on his bottom lip. His body shudders beneath my hands, and I run over those places again, fingers gliding effortlessly with the help of the rain. I grin against his temples. 

A sigh escapes; nothing more than a gasp for air that I never truly needed before so quickly. I’m taking another again because I feel warmth against my neck that makes me shiver, battles the cold sleet of rain. A fist grasps onto his cape and I’m bringing him into me again, to heed his moans into my mouth and devour them whole. The taste, this time, is sweet. Damn him. I need more.

I need him.


End file.
